The News-Herald. [volume] (Hillsboro, Highland Co., Ohio) 1886-1973, 1887-05-12

the bark Of fox, or the hoot Of night
owl, and above us hung, like d great
pearl, the pale moon, which shed mild
radiance on the tortuous roadway choked
with brush and young saplings.
Az we had mo women to carry" we
were able to make good progress, but
the feet that some unobserved bush
would spring back and hit me in the face
at regular intervals during the journey
rather discouraged the development Of
poetic thought. So / did not enjoy the
scenery as much as might had 1t been
viewed from the luxurious seclusion of
Pullman car.
Getting struck between the eyes by a
sturdy young birch tree is very apt to
knock any sentiment that is forming in
the wood nymphs, II there were any
around, were considerably shocked at
some Of my off-hand expressions of dis
gust. Often at intervals during the ride
we came upon family parties in rickety
carry-alls on their way to the festivities
And I caught fleeting glimpses of bright
eyed girls surveying me curiOusly as we
swept by from the depths of their gro-
tesque- looking vehicles.
In most of the wagons we passed was
hair trunk and sometimes rough pack
ing box, which Mr.. Boxer informed me
contained "the women's fixin's," in which
they were to array themselves when they
arrived at the scene of the festivities.
"I'llow," said the landlord, ''that you'll
see some pretty tidy-lookin' gals tonight
by keepin' your ey9s shucked. We grow
some tolerable fine 'uns in these parts,
but you don't want to honey none NV
them as has got fellers, for they're snap
shooters, them that comes from the
mountings."
I Immediately made haste to inform
Mr.. Boxer that had no intention of
provoking lovers quarrels; and as we had
at length come in sight of our destina-
ton the conversation was dropped for
the nonce.
The house owned by Wink Nixon
where the party was to be held was long
one-story rambling affair, built of rough
hewn logs trimmed of the bark, and
through the open doorway could be
seen the flashing of many figures and the
sound of the fiddles industriously scraped
After we had dismounted and quartered
our horses Mr.. Boxer led me into the
supper-room first as he said, II amt no
good on my feet until gets about five
fingers O. tanglefoot inter my cistern,"
meaning, I suppose, by that his system"
The supper-room was at one time
probably used as the store-house from its
dimensions, and the tables had been inn
provised for the occasion out Of planks
laid on rough log treadles and covered
with sheets of unbleached muslin. 1t was
lit by glittering tallow dips Ia luxury only
indulged in on festive occasions) stuck
in bottles resting in brackets made out of
shingles nailed to the posts in the room.
In one corner of the shed stood bar
rel, on which were two demijohns and
row of tin cups. Here the host of the
evening, Mr.. Wink Nixon, dispensed
hospitality. He had on flaming red
shirt, and his face looked like a baked
apple SO scanned was it with wrinkles.
He was jolly-looking old fellow, and
one of the ive1iest men of seventy ever
saw. "You amt seen Mandy yet have
yet" he asked US after we had comforted
the inner man with copious draught of
the smooth mountain whiskey. We &C.
knowledged we had not had the pleasure
of meeting his daughter yet having Just
arrived. "Well, you want to see her."
said the old man with paternal pride. II
sent all the way to town to git her dress